Harrichaelay
by La Southern Belle
Summary: Ever wondered what would happen is Harry made a malfunctioning potion and Snape forced him to chug it? And then something happened that nobody could anticipate? :)


Chapter 1

"Harry, please pay attention! You're going to blow up Ron's bottom AGAIN!" Hermione cried, grabbing Harry's hands as he absent-mindedly threw his ingredients into the cauldron during double potions. Harry was currently preoccupied with the upcoming Quidditch match and was staring at Snape, loathing him as the minutes passed by. If Snape made one more comment about Sirius' death, he was afraid he would snap like a twig. Did Snape not realize how hard it was losing Sirius? Sirius had been like a father… like a brother to him.

Harry felt Hermione's grip relax and he started back at his potion.

"I wish he would tour here…." Hermione sighed, adding knotgrass to her potion which turned it an emerald green.

"Hermione, I don't think that God does tours," Ron said politely to her, grinning.

"I think she means Clay Aiken, Ron," Harry grinned at her. She had been talking about him ever since Harry had seen her again over the summer. Clay this, Clay that, and how he was such a good singer. And Harry had to hand it to her; he did have a nice voice.

Then Harry noticed something. His potion that had been a pale orange had turned a pale blue. Harry added another ingredient quickly before Snape could notice. It simmered to an emerald green.

"I mean, he always does concerts in America, but never here. I got to see one last August because my Grandmother lives in America. It was great…." Hermione stopped suddenly after seeing the disgusted look on Ron's face.

"The bloke can't sing a note! And he's really ugly…" Ron received a very disapproving glare from Hermione and then he continued, "Let's talk about the… Muggle Olympics? Remember that one who won a gold in men's swimming… What was his name?"

"I think you mean Michael Phelps, Ron," Harry replied, surprised that Ron would know about the Olympics. Very suddenly, Harry's potion turned back to the pale blue. Harry satisfied it with adding more fluxweed, and it came back to an emerald green.

"Potter, what is this?" Harry turned around to see Snape's pointed face. He was grinning broadly.

"It's the potion we're making, Professor. You see, when you set an assignment we have to do it and last time I checked, I did too. Unless you have changed the classroom rules to exclude me and if that's the case I shall leave," Harry gritted through his teeth, staring into the piercing eyes of the potions master. Harry snatched his bag and began to rise, but Snape grabbed him by the collar of his robes and forced him back down.

"You do have to do the assignment. But you will not learn unless you get it right. Now you will have to face the punishment for getting it wrong. Drink it." Snape snarled with an evil twisted grin on his face.

"Funny, I thought that students get bad grade for getting things wrong, not getting poisoned," Harry snapped back, and to his surprise, Snape's grin broadened.

"I would not insist for you to drink it if it were poisoned, as poisoning you would land me in Azkaban. Now, I insist that it will not kill you and you-must-drink-it." Snape then added, "Or would you rather Longbottom drink it for you?"

As Harry refused, Snape grinned and started filling a flask. He started carrying it over to Neville. Harry couldn't let Neville get punished for him messing up. Harry leapt up, grabbed the flask, and downed it in one. Harry was glad to know that he was not dead by the end of the period.

Harry set his bag down by his trunk after dinner and threw on his pajamas. His stomach hurt some, but he supposed it was from the rancid potion.

"'Night Harry," Ron yawned and Harry slipped into bed, snuggling up under the covers.

Harry woke up the next morning to find somebody shaking him awake. Stretching his arms, he smacked Ron right in the nose.

"Oy!" Ron yelled, rubbing his nose. "Harry, is that YOU?" Ron gaped at Harry, who blinked dumbly.

"Ron, did you eat something funny? Of course it's me!" Harry laughed, but then immediately stopped at seeing the look on Ron's face. Harry realized that his accent was different. It was some twist of a British accent with a southern American twang.

"Well, if you'd look in the mirror, you'd see why I'm asking." Ron nodded and then Harry started actually thinking… There were other people thinking in his head… Two of them seemed to be asleep and the other mind was his own.

Harry slowly stood up and felt the first change. He was no longer 5'4. Harry was much taller. The other changes Harry saw when he stared in the mirror; he was too shocked to scream.

The person looking back at Harry had a muscular build and was about 6 feet tall. He was still very thin looking though. His nose was longer and he had freckles. What had been messy jet black hair was now medium brown hair with a cowlick.

Harry continued studying himself when Ron interrupted.

"Do you reckon it was the potion?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded. He resisted the urge to vomit.

"Let's go down stairs… Maybe we can go to the library…" Ron suggested and then looked as though he'd been scolded. "Did I say that? Hermione must be rubbing off on me…"

Harry laughed nervously and followed Ron downstairs. They did not have to wait for Hermione to come down because she was already sitting in an armchair. Ron tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around, only to gasp at the sight of Harry.

"Who, what, when, where, why, and HOW?" Hermione cried, pointing at Harry. "Harry's… Harry's now Harrichaelay!"

"A who-be-whatsit?" Ron seemed to be struggling not to laugh at Hermione.

"Harry, you seem to be a mixture of what looks to be Clay, Michael Phelps, and yourself! You said their names when making that potion, did anything happen to the potion when you did that?"

"I thought he sounded stupider," Ron mumbled, but Harry and Hermione ignored it.

"Yeah, it turned pale blue…" Harry recalled the potion's color change.

"Where am I?" Harry said, though it wasn't him saying it. "What's happening?"

"Okay, who are you first of all?" Hermione asked the panicked looking Harry, who was fighting with who ever it was to put on his normal face.

"Wait…. Wait…. Wait… Who are YOU?" Harry asked Hermione in fear.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and that Ron Weasley. Now please tell us who you are!"

"Clay. Clay Aiken… But… I'm…. Not…. Me?" Harry replied and Hermione shook her head. Hermione then looked directly at Harry.

"You can communicate through your head probably Harry. Explain to Clay what happened." Hermione sighed and sunk into her armchair.

Harry started explaining what had happened when Michael Phelps woke up too. Harry felt like he was explaining to two toddlers that two plus two was four and told them what had happened. They still seemed panicked, but accepted this.

"Harry, I'm taking you down to the library so that we can get you back down to your height and such." Hermione said, dragging Harry through the portrait hole and pulling his hood up.

"But what about Clay and Michael? Won't people notice they are missing?" Harry retorted and Hermione spun around.

"This has to be kept quiet, Harry! We can't have everybody know about the Wizarding world! They'll notice they are missing, yes, and they can write letters to whoever they need to!" Hermione looked very panicked and dragged him down the stairs to the library.

"Alright, just whatever you do, don't mess up and end up making me look like Michael Jackson or something."


End file.
